


You Are My Temptation

by RockSaltandCherryPie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Desperation, Drinking, Established Relationship, M/M, Outdoor Sex, Pool & Billiards, Rough Sex, Sex on the Impala, Smoking, Teasing, Wincest - Freeform, jealous!Sam, s3???, top!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-29
Updated: 2014-08-29
Packaged: 2018-02-15 07:21:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2220489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RockSaltandCherryPie/pseuds/RockSaltandCherryPie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: (Wincest teasing, desperation jealous!Sam Top!Dean Established relationship NC-17) just after finishing a hunt Dean and Sam decide to go to a bar to kill their extra adrenalin while there dean notices the hot bar tender that takes a notice in Dean after she gets off work she heads over and sits across from sam in deans lap to play Sam gets jealous and decides to fuck with dean by making him horny until dean cant take anymore and ditches the girl for sam</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Are My Temptation

He knows it's not really something to be proud of, but Sam just shot two demons in the face with the colt and he still feels the adrenaline of the kills pumping and pounding hard through his body. He's so on edge after that Dean suggests they hit up one of the local bars in town called Hannigan's to "cool off some steam."

The place is roomy without being too impersonal, several tables and chairs, a long bar and a pool table at the back where a few guys with tattoos stand around and smoke. Sam and Dean take a seat at the bar and a good looking woman greets them.

"Hi boys," she says even though she's only looking at Dean. "What can I get'cha tonight?" Her hair's tied up in a blonde ponytail and her tank top's extremely low-cut. She's smoking hot, exactly Dean's type.

She leans over the bar as Dean thinks, taking an excessively long time, and his eyes flicker down at her chest before he says "what've you got on tap, sweetheart?"

Sam rolls his eyes.

She lists what they're brewing and Dean orders them both a Guinness.

When the bartender comes back, Dean reads her name tag and says "thank you, _Thora._ Well, that's a pretty name."

Sam swallows down some of the beer while they make small talk.

"Anything else I can get you?" She only says it to Dean, and now she's leaning over the bar again, swaying from side to side a little and Dean has _always_ been a sucker for the flirts with impressive breasts.

"There might be," Dean's got his low, seductive voice on and it makes Sam's skin crawl. "When do you get off work?"

"Midnight," she replies, southern accent now evident. "See you then, sugar."

After she saunters away to the other side of the bar, Sam shoots Dean an incredulous glare.

"What?" Dean says, ridiculously high-pitched.

"Seriously, man?" Sam takes another sip of beer and shakes his head because this was the stupidest idea in the history of stupid ideas. He feels impossibly _more_ on edge than he did before, fury bubbling in his gut, threatening to rear its head in a tantrum. Watching Dean troll for chicks was _not_ what Sam had in mind when Dean suggested they "blow off some steam."

"What? Look, okay, Sammy, just cause she wasn't into you..." Dean starts, and that's not even it. Dean's so goddamn oblivious it just pisses Sam off even further.

And it's not like he can come outright and say _I'm jealous, stop flirting with chicks and flirt with ME already_ because that's not how they do it. They get drunk, usually. And then they bicker and banter back and forth like usual but it's different, been different since the first time they actually had sex. They don't talk about it, ever. The one time Sam tried to Dean literally told him "I'm not talking about this, Sam," and that was it. Because it doesn't see the light of day because it's so ridiculously _messed up_ and would only further add to the messed up crap they deal with on a regular basis. And that was the way it went. At least for the past few months.

"Whatever," Sam says. "You wanna shoot some pool?"

"Read my mind," Dean says and they hop off the bar stools.

 

~

 

They started out hustling the guys at the back with the tattoos stretching all the way up their arms, which led to a very loud and very heated _disagreement_ , but they seemed to respect Sam more than Dean so they backed off when he intervened. So now they're playing a round of eight-ball alone while the other guys stand and watch.

At precisely 12:10, the hot little blonde from earlier comes up to Dean after he makes his shot and wraps her hand around his cue.

"Winning for me?" She asks, her hips brushing his and he looks down at her and smirks.

"'Course."

"Tell you what," she starts, and Dean's barely registering what she's saying, all he smells is her perfume and her lipgloss and then she's leaning in to whisper something in his ear.

 _I'll let you fuck me if you win,_ she says, and Dean wraps his free hand around her waist.

"Yeah?" he says when she pulls back and grins, her brows raised suggestively. "And if I lose?"

She pretends to think, pursing her puffy red lips and then says "I guess I'll let you fuck me anyway."

The balls on the table make a loud clamor, one ear-splitting crack followed by several others as they bounce off the rails. Dean startles and finds Sam feigning an apologetic face which isn't very convincing.

Thora turns Dean's head back for him and bumps their hips together again. Dean's past tipsy and his senses are over-stimulated, everything waking up and getting excited.

"So, _Sugar_ ," her lips speak intimately with his, "I'll be waiting for you in the bathroom whenever you're ready for some _real_ fun."

"Okay," he says stupidly, wide grin spreading across his features. She struts to the bathroom and Dean follows her with his eyes. She's got that perfect hour-glass figure, tight little tank and low-cut jeans hugging a perfectly round and firm ass. After she disappears, Dean shoots Sam a look of disbelief, still grinning from ear to ear.

He mouths "the _body_ on her!" and his hands push up invisible C cups as he nods devilishly. Sam just raises his brows, tight-lipped, and says "it's your turn."

Dean makes a sour face at Sam's bad mood, but then aims up his cue and shoots. One ball gets sunk and the other bounces off the rail, close to the opposite pocket he was aiming for but not in.

Sam takes his time walking around the table and picking up the cue ball. He stands in front of Dean and leans on his cue.

"Good shot," he says to his face, usual cheekiness taking to his features. It happens when Sam's tipsy, he'll lose the puppy dog thing and gain an impish tenacity that makes Dean question morality. He knows this, and he's playing it up now. A _lot._ "But mine'll be better."

He knocks Dean a little with his hip and then bends over, right friggin in front of Dean, and lets his ass nudge Dean's crotch.

"Son of a _—_ " Dean groans. His dick gives a leap and anyone with eyes can see he's sporting the beginnings of a seriously lethal hard-on. Sam's back curves and he takes his time lining up the cue. He sways his hips back and forth as he aims, little bit of friction through jean that makes Dean bite his lip and curse under his breath. He clutches his cue stick until his knuckles go white and then Sam shoots. He was right, his shot sunk three fucking balls. Dean's off his game tonight. Like, big time. Sam gets up and gives him a wickedly satisfied smirk. Dean's whole body's tense, he feels the arousal in the tips of his toes and at the top of his spine. Sam leans on his stick again and opens his mouth against his knuckles where they're holding on, eyes gone dark, and waits for Dean to say something or _move,_ anything. Dean just licks his lips and stares at his mesmerizing little brother. Sam nudges in closer and tilts the cue so that it's in between Dean's legs. No one's really paying attention anyway, but even if there were curious onlookers they wouldn't be able to see the way Sam lets the cue rock back and forth over Dean's fully hard dick, teasing it, testing him.

"S'your turn," Sam says, voice like a lick up his throat and Dean shudders and fucking _whimpers_ like a kid. "Unless of course, you'd rather be somewhere else."

Sam pulls back and gives Dean space to _breathe_ so he takes his cue and walks to his next position, lining up his shot. His head's spinning, blood pumping faster than ever, rapidly shooting down to one place. He tries to adjust his pants several times but it's not helping anything except increasing the friction and he hates that Sam _knows,_ Sam's _playing_ with him.

He doesn't sink _any_ balls cause his hands were shaking and when he looks up Sam's over by the big dudes with the tattoos, they're lighting up a cigarette for him. A fucking cigarette.

Sam saunters back over to the table, cigarette hanging out of his mouth and he leans in front of Dean again.

"The hell are you doing?" Dean asks, watching the smoke escape Sam's lips and twist up around him. It might as well have been black, Dean's about ready to splash him with some holy water if he doesn't cut this out. "You don't smoke."

Sam takes in a puff and tilts his head back as he exhales. He's the embodiment of sin, tongue peaking through parted lips to swipe over the top one and get it all wet and shiny.

"This isn't you..." Dean tries, but his voice shakes and stutters.

"It's not?" Sam purrs, leaning closer. "Why?... Is it... _you?_ " Sam goes to put the cigarette in Dean's mouth and Dean takes it from him, tasting Sam's saliva on it and the heady nicotine that enters his body and rests on his tongue. And now Dean knows what this is about. Sam's getting him back for being such a fucking flirt with the stupid bartender chick. Well, it worked, because he actually completely forgot she's still waiting for him in the bathroom and he couldn't care less.

"Fucking damnit," Dean curses and yanks Sam by the collar away from the table. He has a death grip on his wrist the whole way out of the bar and then pushes him by the shoulders once they're in the parking lot.

"The hell's wrong with you? Huh?!" Dean spits, tossing the cigarette to the cement. Sam's grinning from ear to ear, walking to the Impala with the most satisfied look on his face.

They reach the car and Dean forces him against it. Sam makes a noise when he hits it with his back, eyes evidently bright and hungry even in the darkness.

"Fucking... tease..." Dean knocks his hips against Sam's and breathes him in. "This what you wanted, huh?"

Sam's playful laugh cuts off with a gasp when Dean slams his hips harder into Sam, opening his teeth on his sticky skin and nosing in his hair. Sam's neck cranes back and Dean mouths along his jaw until their lips meet and smear together, tongues playing and sucking.

Sam hikes his body up on the hood, pulling Dean in by the back and wrapping his legs around him. Dean grunts and tugs at Sam's hair, exposing the line of his throat and devouring it. Sam gasps and shudders, rocking his hips up into Dean's.

Dean lets out a loud, animalistic groan and flips Sam around on the hood. He fumbles with his belt, desperately aiming to free his straining cock, and gets the front of his jeans open.

"Right here?" Sam gapes, getting his hands under himself to arch his back up on the hood.

"Right fucking here," Dean snaps, yanking Sam's pants down and Sam can't keep still either, he's eagerly rocking back, perfect round ass bumping against Dean's fingers when he rubs in between his cheeks. Dean gets his fingers wet with his spit and shoves two inside Sam immediately, slowly fucking him at first and Sam gasps, hands digging in to the hood of the car.

Dean presses on Sam's back so that he lies against the cool flat surface, places wet kisses on his shoulder and whispers _so fucking hot_ in his ear over and over.

He replaces his fingers with his cock, tip pressing through the ring of muscle with each aborted little thrust. Dean grunts and jerks until he's all the way inside and then his hips pick up speed. Sam's making loud open-mouthed moans, voice stuttering every time Dean pushes like he's trying to get impossibly _further_ in. They start out completely uncoordinated but eventually find a rhythm and begin to move together until the pleasure's too good to even attempt to prolong. Sam squeezes him and shudders, collapsing against the hood. He sobs on a moan, one hand shoved down his pants at the front as Dean fucks him. Dean feels the tremors coursing through Sam's body and loses it completely. He pounds into him until he comes, balls emptying deep inside his baby brother. Sam moans like he feels it, mouth hanging open against the Impala, sweaty hair all tangled in front of his face. Dean leans down to kiss the corner of his lips, his jaw. Sam smiles dazedly, sated look on his face.

Dean pulls out slowly and turns Sam back over, reaching behind him to pull his jeans up over his ass for him.

"You okay?" He asks softly, still a little out of breath and Sam replies by pulling him in by the neck and devouring his lips. Sam tugs at the bottom one with his teeth before pulling back and saying "let's get outta here."

**Author's Note:**

> title from Vast's Temptation.  
> I hope OP doesn't mind I changed a few teeny tiny minor things. (〃ω〃)


End file.
